


Words strung together

by WinterRaven



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Plug, Don't copy to another site, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Holiday Writing Challenge, Light Bondage, M/M, Mentions Jane Foster, NSFW, Omg I forgot important tags like butt plug, bucky writes bad love poems for steve, dialogue prompt, mentions Thor - Freeform, mentions Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 21:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16860472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRaven/pseuds/WinterRaven
Summary: Bucky enjoyed writing love poems for Steve. Bad love poems. Cheesy love poems. The kind that started with “Roses are red…” or some variation of it because trying to compose haikus confused Bucky and trying to write sonnets was downright terrifying even for a badass former assassin like himself.As long as the words he strung together made Steve smile, he was going to keep writing his eye-rolling and occasionally baffling poems.And Steve loved it.





	Words strung together

**Author's Note:**

> This is a second of three holiday writing challenges from Tumblr. It was a dialogue prompt and the prompt is italicized in the story. I think I've tagged it correctly. I may add more if necessary. This is unbeta'd. Enjoy!

Bucky enjoyed writing love poems for Steve. Bad love poems. Cheesy love poems. The kind that started with “Roses are red…” or some variation of it because trying to compose haikus confused Bucky and trying to write sonnets was downright terrifying even for a badass former assassin like himself.

As long as the words he strung together made Steve smile, he was going to keep writing his eye-rolling and occasionally baffling poems.

And Steve loved it.

He received his first love poem from Bucky after a particularly difficult and drawn out overseas mission that almost ended their lives. Steve berated himself for nearly getting Bucky killed. But Bucky wasn’t having any of it.

After arriving back at their apartment, he pulled Steve into the shower with him. Sharing a shower was something they recently got into the habit of doing after any assignment. It was a reset button for both of them — to get grounded again, to remember the Avengers wasn’t something that occupied their every waking moment, to remind themselves they were still two boys from Brooklyn and they had each other.

After showering, Bucky prepared corned beef sandwiches with a side of store-bought coleslaw for supper while Steve stared out at the New York skyline, lost in thought. Bucky took a moment to quickly jot down some words on a blank piece of paper, folded it in half, wrote Steve’s name on it and placed it on top of Steve’s sandwich.

Steve sat at the table and noticed the note. He gave Bucky a questioning look.

“Read it out loud, babe,” Bucky requested. “Please.” He picked up his glass of water for a drink.

Steve’s brows furrowed together. He unfolded the note and read it.

“The bad guys wore black. Captain America wore blue. He kicked their fucking asses, with help from Bucky, too.”

He looked up to see Bucky grinning. Steve shook his head and smiled. “What is this for, Buck?”

“Just wanted to see if I could make you smile. There’s something else at the bottom. Read it.”

Steve looked at the note again.

“P.S. — You will never let me down. We’re in this together. Now stop pouting, punk.” 

Steve laughed even though his chest tightened with emotion. He leaned over and gave Bucky a kiss before taking a bite of his sandwich.

•

The next time Steve received a poem from Bucky, it was on Valentine’s Day. Steve had woken up earlier than usual to get in his morning run and make it back in time to have breakfast ready for Bucky.

Bucky schlepped out barefoot in sweatpants and t-shirt into their small dining area, rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning. He blinked at the food on the table. His eyes feasted on the French toast, sausage, bacon, maple syrup, coffee, orange juice and fruit salad.

Then he noticed the single red rose sitting in the thin glass vase in the middle of the table. His eyes widened at the realization that it was Valentine’s Day. He had completely forgotten.

Steve walked out of the kitchen with a couple of coffee mugs, napkins and cutlery and kissed Bucky on the cheek while he still stared at the rose.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” Steve asked as he placed the items on table.

“Yeah, I did.” Bucky grabbed him, making Steve drop the cutlery onto the floor, and gave him a toe-curling kiss. “Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Mmmm, I wanted to.” Steve slowly opened his eyes. “Gotta show my best guy how much he means to me. Got plans today? If you’re doing nothing, we could spend the day in bed after breakfast.” Steve smirked and gave Bucky’s groin a gentle squeeze for emphasis.

Bucky inhaled a sharp breath. He placed his hand on top of Steve’s hand stilling it for a moment. “Don’t you have a meeting this morning?”

“I do but I can cancel and reschedule it.” Steve’s voice had dropped low and it sent sparks down Bucky’s spine. He was tempted to forget breakfast altogether and drag Steve into their bedroom and fuck the man so hard he would be feeling it for days.

But it was Valentine’s Day and Bucky knew he would feel like a chump if he didn’t get something for his doll. “Don’t cancel the meeting. I have some errands to do. See you for lunch?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Sure.”

“You’re not disappointed, are you?”

Steve cupped Bucky’s face and stroked his cheek. “Nah, I just wanted to spend the day with you.”

A tinge of pink colored Bucky’s cheeks and a warmth radiated from his chest. “We have the rest of the day when you get back.”

“Okay. Let’s eat before all this gets cold.”

 

Bucky glanced at the clock. It was 12:53pm. He peeked at the lasagna and garlic bread warming in the oven. The dishes from breakfast were drying on the dish rack. Steve would be home any minute. He took a moment to glare at the large multi-colored bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. He thought he was being swindled when the young woman at the flower shop informed him of the cost for the bouquet. But he chose not to grump at the woman. It wasn’t her fault. She just worked there.

He noticed the hem of his shirt had become wet from washing the dishes and went to change into a dry shirt.

The scent of garlic, oregano and tomato sauce welcomed Steve as he entered the apartment. His mouth watered. He spotted the flowers on the table and walked over to them. He plucked the enveloped that had been tucked into the bouquet. He ripped it open and pulled out the card.

“Buck?” Steve called out. “I’m home.”

Bucky walked out of their bedroom wearing his much-loved red Henley shirt. “Hey, babe,” he smiled. “How was the meeting?”

“Tedious, but necessary. What did you make for lunch? It smells really good.”

“I picked up lasagna and garlic bread from that new gourmet food shop two blocks down the street. It should be done now. I’m gonna take ’em out of the oven. Give me a sec, okay?” Bucky disappeared into the kitchen.

Steve opened the card and read Bucky’s cursive handwriting. He couldn’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes. Bucky returned, licking melted garlic butter off his thumb and wiping it on his jeans.

“You’re a punk, Barnes,” Steve stated.

“What?”

Steve read the card’s message out loud. “Roses are red, violets are blue, flowers are goddamn expensive but I bought ’em cuz I love you.”

“Damn right, they were expensive. This whole Valentine’s Day thing is run by greedy shysters.”

Steve laughed. “So, why did you buy them?”

Bucky looked down and shuffled his feet. “Because I forgot it was Valentine’s Day… and I didn’t want to give you nothing.”

Steve pulled him into a hug and kissed him. “You jerk. You’ve already given me everything.”

•

For his birthday, Steve received another memorable love poem.

“Any regrets about not going out to watch the fireworks, Stevie?”

“No,” he replied gasping for breath. “This is far more… gratifying.” His skin crackled with electricity.

“I would certainly hope so, punk. Enjoying your birthday present?” Bucky smirked as he pressed the button on the slim black remote.

Steve howled. The vibrating butt plug had kicked up a couple of notches causing his hips to involuntarily jerk off the bed. More pre-cum oozed out and spilled down his painfully hard and aching cock. He tugged against the dark blue silk rope that kept his hands tied to the bed frame. The bed sheets were ruined from their sweat and from the multiple times they already came.

Bucky had positioned himself between Steve’s legs, remote in one hand, the other leisurely stroking Steve’s dick. Intoxicated from the haze of pleasure, Steve’s eyes feasted at the sight of Bucky. His lover’s skin glistened with sweat in the candlelight. Light and shadow outlined and defined his body. Steve decided he needed to draw Bucky’s naked form in this light one day.

Strands of hair framed his lover’s face while the rest was pulled back into a loose low bun. It was practical in those moments where Steve had been a good enough boy to have Bucky suck his cock as a reward. It was also practical in those moments where he wanted his mouth all over Steve’s body. This was clearly on Bucky’s mind once he set the vibrating butt plug on its second lowest setting and placed the remote on the night table and proceeded to make his way up Steve’s body, leaving a trail of kisses and reddening marks on his skin. He made his way up to his mouth teasing him with light kisses and licks on Steve’s neck, jawline and swollen lips.

Bucky’s cock brushed up against Steve’s, making both men gasp into each other’s mouths. Steve rolled his hips upwards seeking more friction from Bucky. He obliged Steve with several lazy hip rolls, their cocks rubbing together deliciously. It didn’t last long though. Bucky backed away from Steve making him squirm and whine with frustration.

Bucky slipped a couple of fingers into Steve’s mouth, allowing him to suckle on them for a moment. “Shh, it’s alright, Stevie. I won’t starve you for very long.” Bucky withdrew his fingers. “I just need to give you your birthday poem.”

Steve blinked at him. “You want to give it to me now? You couldn’t have given it to me before we started? I’m not exactly in a position to read anything.”

“You’re not going to read it.” Bucky placed a kiss on his neck before sucking hard on the small patch of skin. Steve hissed, then moaned. Bucky released the crimson-colored skin and licked his lips. “I’m going to recite it to you.”

“O-okay.”

Bucky cleared his throat and with a low voice, he spoke into his ear.

“When your face goes red with exertion.”

Bucky lightly ran his tongue over the shell of Steve’s ear before he nipped at the ear lobe making his lover shiver.

“And your balls turn blue.”

Steve inhaled a deep, shaky breath when Bucky wrapped one hand around his throbbing, weeping cock and the other reached for the remote.

“You will be begging for mercy before I’m done with you.”

Bucky looked into his eyes and grinned. Steve whimpered.

•

“I hate you.”

“What are you talking about, Buck?”

Bucky walked out of their bedroom and into the living room where Steve was adjusting the ornaments on their Christmas tree. “I’m talking about this god forsaken sweater you want me to wear to Tony’s Christmas party tonight. What the fuck, Stevie?”

Steve turned to look at Bucky and laughed. He laughed so hard he cried. Bucky was not amused.

“I’m sorry, Buck,” he said, wiping a tear from his cheek. “But what’s wrong with reindeer and elves? I picked it for you. It screams you.” He burst out laughing again.

“Since when was it okay to illustrate reindeer slaughtering Santa’s elves as part of the holiday season?” He tugged at his sweater pointing to one example of a reindeer goring an elf with its antlers. “It’s sacrilegious to do this to Santa, his elves and his reindeer. The reindeer would never do this.”

“Says the man who kills without batting an eyelash.”

“We kill bad guys, not good guys like Santa or the elves. This is disgraceful.” Bucky’s face was slowly turning red from expressing his indignation.

“You realize this conversation just became ridiculous, right?” Steve said in a calm voice.

Bucky huffed. “This sweater is ridiculous. Yours is just as ridiculous. You have reindeer dancing the can-can and elves drinking beer with Santa.”

“Just say you hate the sweater, Buck. It’s okay.”

“I hate it.”

“Feel better now?”

“No.”

Steve chuckled. “It’s Tony’s idea for everyone to wear an ugly Christmas sweater to the party. He thinks it will be hilarious. Thor’s should be pretty funny considering how big he is. Jane probably found something for him to wear.”

Bucky thought for a moment. “Everyone will be wearing ugly-ass sweaters?”

“Yes,” Steve smiled. “Misery loves company. I think Tony mentioned there would be a prize for ugliest sweater to appease the attendees.”

“Well, I better win with this thing.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Only if there’s a category for best depiction of holiday bloodlust.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, you think you’re pretty funny.”

“You give me so much material to work with, jerk.”

Bucky’s face lit up for a second. Then he smirked. “You want material? I’ll give you material. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Steve watched Bucky grab a blank sheet of paper, a pen and colored markers and disappeared into the bedroom.

A minute passed. “Buck, we have to leave soon.”

“Just give me another minute, Stevie.”

A minute later, Bucky walked out beaming with the paper folded in half in his hand.

Steve knew the routine by now. He took the paper from Bucky, unfolded it and read it aloud.

_“Rudolph’s nose is red, Jack Frost’s nose is blue, Merry Christmas bitch, I love you.”_

Steve looked at the haphazardly drawn image of Rudolph and his shiny red nose situated right above the poem. He folded the paper and put it into his pocket. He smiled at Bucky and grabbed his hand. “You’re still a jerk. Let’s go.”

As they headed out of their apartment, Bucky couldn’t help but complain about the sweaters one more time.

“Can we burn the sweaters after tonight?”

“No, Bucky. We’re keeping them.”


End file.
